


The Kids Aren’t Alright

by pixelatedWriter



Category: Mother 3
Genre: Angst, Execution, Hopeful Ending, Insanity, Mass Homicide, Mentions of Major Character Death, OP can’t tag for the life of them, Obsession, Overall unhealtiness, Recovery, The bad stuff doesn’t really start until later though, The first bit is also pretty much purely fluff until about halfway, The worst part is when I describe a pile of corpses to be honest, These tags aren’t as bad as they seem in my opinion, attempted homicide, post Mother 3, revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixelatedWriter/pseuds/pixelatedWriter
Summary: It had started when he had returned home to Tazmilly, that’s when he had changed. He expected to return accepted, expected to be recognized as a tazmillian civilian again. Instead, they shunned him, hated him, called him names. Not really the ones around his age, mostly their parents. Somehow, that made it hurt more. It made something… Happen to him. No, not him himself, his brother. The first signs were when he started muttering something about hallucinogenic mushrooms. The second sign was when he had began to cling to him a lot more, practically escorting him everywhere. The last sign, the one he saw too little too late, was when the knives went missing. If only he woke up sooner, he could’ve stopped this, but, looking back with the knowledge he had now, he knows he couldn’t. Even so, it’s still his fault. It’s his fault that his brother took those knives and…Well, let’s start from the beginning.





	The Kids Aren’t Alright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asktwinheroesoftazmily](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=asktwinheroesoftazmily).



> Fun fact: I began writing this a month ago and finished about a week ago on Amino. When I went to credit the person who originally wrote the comic this is based off of, I found out their entire Deviantart (Where I found the comic) was wiped four days ago. Well fuck, but I’m still proud of this and I’m still gonna post it and tag their tumblr mother ask blog instead, cause I still wanna give credit. Plus I low key wanna see them read it one day and hand me feedback but what can you do?  
> Anyways, this is Amino user Slitherhen here to show the AO3 world “The Kids Aren’t Alright”. Please enjoy.
> 
> ALSO I INDENTED EVERYTHING WHICH TOOK ME 15 MINUTES MINUMUM AND IT DIDNT EVEN SHOW IM MAD

Claus woke up in the middle of a sunflower field, arms held in an x across his chest. He looked like someone’s body in a coffin, however, despite the circumstance, he was very much alive. The “deadboy” opened his eyes and sat up straight, a strangled gasp passing through him as he breathed in air for the first time in three years. Why was he here, in this field of flowers? Hadn’t he died so long ago for the greater good, killing himself with lightning magic? How long had it been since he died in his brother’s arms? He had no idea, which was why he got up and walked himself from that field back to town, all to find out. Upon arriving in town, he received mixed reactions. His friends, like Fuel, Nana and Richie, all ran over and hugged him, sobbing tears of joy. They told him Lucas hadn’t been the same ever since he died. They told him to go home and see his father, brother and dog. The adults, however, as mentioned above, had opposite reactions. They said he was dead, that he was a freak of nature. He shouldn’t be alive, they shouted, he should be dead. They blamed his brother’s almost god-like status for his return, that when he passed his broken heart filled with pure intentions to the Dark Dragon, it pitied him and disobeyed the laws of nature just to bring his twin back to life. The parents yelled at their children to get back, but they knew better. They feared they would kill Claus again, hang him from the gallows that they did not have, but would make just to exterminate this blight upon the living. The children escorted him home, where he knocked once, then twice. He heard a muffled voice beyond the door.  
“Go away,” it said, “No one is here.”  
Claus’ eyes lit up, the voice like music to his ears. It was something he hadn’t expected to hear again for years. The boy parted his lips, pausing for a moment to formulate what he wanted to say.  
“...Luca,” he finally spoke after a few moments passed, “it’s me. Don’t you remember? Your brother?”  
There was absolute silence on the other side of the door, and he could only imagine what his twin was doing on the other side. The most likely thing was that he was sitting on the ground, back pressed against the door as he debated if this was a prank or not. A few seconds later the door creaked open, and dulled blue eyes peeked out, weary of being told a lie. The light came back to them after the twin spotted red hair and a face similar to the one he saw when he looked into a mirror.  
“Clo..,” the blond boy behind the door whispered, opening it all the way and placing his hands on his cheeks to make sure that this was indeed real, that it wasn’t just his mind playing one of the cruelest of pranks possible. Claus reached up and lightly grabbed his wrists.  
“It’s okay, I’m real,” he assured him, smiling like an idiot, “I’m here. You don’t have to mourn anymore, Luca. I’m here…”  
Lucas started crying. No, not crying, he started bawling. Bawling like a child lost in a mall, but instead of being lost, this time he had been found. He found his other half, his twin brother. They were together, and all seemed good. Nothing would break this ever again. Lucas swore this to himself.

A few days later, after Lucas fussed over him, Flint cried a bit over him and Boney jumped and licked him, he decided to go back into town. Lucas grabbed his wrist, making him look up to meet his eye. It seemed Lucas was worried, and, for a moment, Claus wondered if he knew. Claus opened his mouth to speak, when Lucas interrupted with,  
“Come back safe, okay? I’m just… Worried.”  
Oh, so he didn’t know, but his intuition told him enough, which meant, in a sense, Lucas did know. This is confusing.  
...This is stupid.  
Claus faked a smile, grabbing his shoulders and gently pulling him down to his level.  
“Lucas, I’ll be fine. I swear.”  
The candied lie fell from his lips easily, and Lucas, the poor innocent boy, fell for it so easily. He knew he trusted him, causing his stomach to churn. It made him feel sick, absolutely sick to lie to his twin, who he used to be able to trust with anything. Why was he afraid to tell him? Claus couldn’t exactly tell. It was like some sort of verbal roadblock had been hit, just the way he had been reacting the past few days and that look in his eyes earlier set off metaphorical alarm bells in his head. His twin sibling pressed a small kiss to his forehead, muttering something under his breath before pushing him forward a bit.  
“What are you waiting for, Clo?” Lucas chidled, “Go on to town. I bet everyone is mad dad and I took all your time so far.”  
Probably a different mad then you expect, Luca, he thought to himself, the churning in his stomach only getting worse as he headed to town. Upon arriving, he felt all eyes on him, boring into him. He could feel the hostility radiating off of them in waves, he could feel his friends sympathy. The counter in his head told him exactly how many hostiles were in the area.  
17 hostiles.  
9 friendly. The sad thing is, he could tell exactly who was what. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Nana attempting to walk towards him before being stopped by her father. Nana shouted to Claus a word, a simple word, an order that he followed.  
“Run!”  
He noticed then why the atmosphere was so off. They were going to kill him, beat him, skin him and rip apart the ticking clockwork to see what made him move, burn his remains and make sure he could never return. The ex-commander turned on his heel and ran, hearing distant screams, feeling genuine fear for the first time in years. He doesn’t want to die, not again. Not after he finally got to return to his family. Sure, it’s selfish, so selfish, but he can’t die. He wasn’t doing this for himself.  
He was doing it for them.  
The distant footsteps got closer, but he didn’t notice, too enraptured in his own thoughts to even take note. Hell, he didn’t even know that the townsfolk were following until someone grabbed his arm. A scream of panic flew from his lips, eyes wide in terror.  
Burn the monster, slay the freak, toss him into the pits of hell.  
Fire, fire, fire…  
He thrashed in their grasp, as more townsfolk helped to drag the chimeratized boy with superhuman strength back to the square. Claus could so easily kill them, let the PSI magic dance at his fingertips and let their bodies drop to the ground. What held him back from doing this was his friends. He didn’t want them to suffer like he did all those years ago, didn’t want them to know the loss of a parent like he did. Though he was a monster, a freak of nature, he wasn’t that bad, was he? No, of course not, even if he was to die, he wouldn’t go how he did in the life prior. Claus held his head high as he was held in the town square, closing his eyes as he was tied to the pyre. Burn the witch, he heard them say, burn the freak and let it dissipate. As they poured the gasoline, as they got the matches, they called him names, abused him, hurt him with knives and words. He didn’t let it show that it hurt, he wouldn’t be weak. Even if he was afraid, so afraid, he wouldn’t give in.  
The match was struck, and he heard cheering. The last of his courage and confidence sapped as he opened his eyes to see the match thrown, as he felt the fire lick up his skin and eat at him. He couldn’t stop screaming, the pain worse than when he electrocuted himself to death. He was going to die, surely, he would die here by angered villagers, by angered people-  
He felt cold, frozen one second and covered in water the next. Already drained of energy, he took the last of it to look over in the direction of muffled shouting. Claus saw Lucas standing there, fury in his eyes, hatred he thought impossible for him to bare shining though where kindness usually hid. Townsfolk backed off as a hexagonal pattern shot from his hands, and, as his vision faded to black, he saw Fuel peeking out from behind him. So, Fuel had gotten him help.  
Claus made a mental note to thank him later. For now, however, he needed to rest.  
…  
Rest…  
•  
When he woke up, two days had passed, and Lucas was muttering something about the mushrooms being right whilst addressing his burns.  
“They were right, you were right, but not for me. Everyone was waiting to throw rocks at you, spit at you, make your life hell. Everyone you knew as a child, or, well, almost everyone. Disgusting, isn’t it, Clo? Don’t worry, it won’t happen anymore…”  
It seemed he didn’t know he was awake and, from the way he was talking, Claus didn’t think he wanted him to know. He laid still, and Lucas kissed his forehead like normal before walking away. As soon as he knew he was gone, the redheaded twin opened his good eye and sat up, feeling pain shoot through him, quick as lightning. The fire must’ve overheated the mainframe, maybe melted some wires. He really needed to get that checked out, didn’t he? However, with his brother’s… Erratic? Odd?... Behavior, that probably wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Claus wondered how dad was taking this. Obviously Lucas had gone a little off the rails because of this, but maybe he was also like this before and just didn’t show signs of it when he was around. No, that can be easily debunked. Dad wasn’t looking at Lucas strange, which meant he didn’t act like this before. Guess seeing your twin almost die for the third time, being burned like he was the guilty verdict of a Salem witch trial, wasn’t exactly a pleasant thing. Hell, Claus was sure if he saw Lucas burning, he would go insane as well! This is Lucas, though. He shouldn’t do anything too erratic. Just be off for a few days, then back to his normal self.  
So he assumed, at least.  
A few hours passed and Lucas returned, dropping the salve and gauze he held in shock that his brother was awake. Quickly, he recovered his poise, picking up the gauze and slave to continue his way over.  
“Thank the Dragon you’re awake…,” Lucas murmured, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and something undistinguishable, “Now, can you stay still so I can change the bandages? You don’t have to look if you don’t want too.”  
“No, Luca, it’s fine.”  
Lucas nodded, picking up his left arm and unraveling the bandages around it. Immediately, the smell of burnt flesh disgraced his nostrils as he looked at the scarred skin. Lucas scooped some of the slave out of the container and smeared it over his arm, causing him to scream in a sort of agony. The blond flinched back, letting Claus get used to the feeling for a few moments, then continuing. He repeated this process until he was finished rubbing it over his skin in a thin layer, then wrapping the gauze around it tightly. After completing this, he set his arm down on his chest. Lucas worked in complete silence as he moved onto his leg, soon finishing that.  
During all this, Claus wondered when was the last time, before being reincarnated, he felt pain. Porky had dulled his nerves quite literally to keep him fighting under any circumstances. Was it when he was struck by lightning, or what the just him imagining? He pondered this for a minute or two, and, after debating for a bit, he believed it was when he went to fight the drago roughly six years ago. He hadn’t been truly human in six years. He hadn’t been seen as an acceptable tazmillian in six years. That thought hurt more than the salve, somehow.  
Then, all of a sudden, the saw red in his left eye. The metal must’ve warped, melded into his skin and disoriented his vision. The targeting system was all off, flickering around on a red, fuzzed screen. He heard his twin take a sharp breath. Claus assumed he didn’t know how bad the damage was when he first addressed this wound, judging from how careful he was with this spot. It’s not like it hurt or anything, it just felt extremely odd, like a doctor poking at your skin with a scalpel. Guess it looked worse than it actually was, seeing as Lucas was quick to remeld the metal back into place, which was more painful than it might sound. Claus was screaming the whole time, causing his twin to cover his mouth with something just to muffle it. It probably sounded so similar to when he was burning in the square, probably made so many terrible memories rise in the mind of the other boy. He hated to think that he could be the source of these emotions, the ones causing him such pain, the ones to cause the things to come that he didn’t yet know about, but it’s the reality of the thing.  
The pain subsided, and he was finally able to take a breath without wanting to scream his lungs out like a tortured animal. Lucas pulled his hands back and stared at him in dead silence. Should he attempt to open his left eye again? No, the shouldn’t, it’s ill-advised. He didn’t need to be a doctor to know this fact. All he needed to do was realize that 1: the wires were still fried, even more so now and 2: Lucas was already retrieving the gauze to patch up that spot, more than less likely signifying that it wasn’t ready to be used at all. He lifted up his head, allowing Lucas to wrap the bandages around his head with more ease. The blond twin was already being so helpful to him, he really didn’t want to be more of a burden then he needed to be. When patching him up, he began to talk to himself again.  
“Isn’t this wonderful? Lovely? They’ve all hurt you, Clo, they hurt you and bruised you, almost killed you… I don’t want you to die again. I’m scared, so scared you’ll leave me again. You’re my twin, we’re supposed to stick together. It’s like we’re two halves of a single whole, right? Haven’t you said that before?”  
He’s not wrong. Many years, before he went to slay the mecha-drago, he told him he was his other half, the best friend he could’ve ever asked for. It’s why he forced him to stay behind back then, so he wouldn’t lose him if he did end up surviving.  
“I know you have. Before the drago. That moment is etched into my memories. Your first set of last words.”  
Lucas is choosing a… Weirdly eloquent set of words. Words he normally wouldn’t choose. What’s going on?  
It’s probably nothing. He just grew over the six years since he last truly talked with him, that’s all. The chills he got from this, the sense of unease and the thoughts that he needed to run and warn the town about something was all in his head. Once again, as stated before, Claus was able to make himself believe a lie was the truth. Instead of probing like he should’ve with this situation, he asked him to lay down with him like when they were kids. Lucas did so, and they proceeded to talk about mundane things, such as what happened to the Nowhere Islands before his return.  
After what felt like hours, the two drew drowsy. Claus tucked his head beneath Lucas’ and closed his eyes, not saying a word, and Lucas rubbed the back of his head comfortingly, threading his fingers through his hair in a rhythmic pattern. The elder twin fell asleep first, letting out soft breaths into the younger’s shoulder, causing him to stop movement with this hand. The blond looked at him. Fragile, not physically, but emotionally of course. He couldn’t let the townsfolk break him, hurt him, harm him anymore. He would protect him.  
No matter what the cost, he would keep him safe. He loved him too much, held him too dear to watch him suffer anymore. His fingers brushed against his twin’s bandaged cheek, and he frowned. It’s such a sad thing, that they marred what was already damaged. For a brief moment, Lucas wondered if he should subject them to such a fate as well.  
No, that’s overkill.  
...He tucked the idea into the back of his mind anyways.  
….  
The next day, the redhead awoke with some sort of renewed vigor, a metaphorical fire in his eyes. He carefully moved away from his brother, making sure not to wake him. However, he knew he was a heavy sleeper, so this was a useless sentiment. Claus made an attempt to get up, only able to make it a few steps before falling over with a loud wail. How that, out of all things, woke his brother, he wasn’t sure, yet here the blond is now, kneeling beside him and helping him up.  
“What are you doing?” His twin inquired, giving him an odd look. Claus sighed.  
“I wanted to go out,” he started to say, “and see the townsfolk. I want to try and change their mind, to make them see I’m still… me. I may be stuck at the height I was when I was ten, I might be cybernetic, but I’m still the Claus they knew. I just need to show them that.”  
Such a beautiful hope, a false hope. Lucas sighed.  
“...No, not yet. Maybe, if it was safer, if they weren’t going to burn you alive, yes. I still don’t trust them, and when did you become this forgiving?”  
“I learned it from you.”  
That made them both pause for a bit, a somewhat awkward silence. Oh, how the years change a man. It’s almost as if they swapped personalities entirely! How funny, how sad. Lucas was the first to break the silence with a quiet,  
“From me? You… Learned from me.”  
Claus nodded once, not sure how else to respond, seeing as the other looked like he was about to cry for some reason. Really? Just because he learned from him, he’s turning into a blubbering mess? It made him laugh a bit, breaking into a grin.  
“Of course I learned from you! We learn from each other, we always did. It’s how we work, isn’t it Lucas?”  
“I… Yeah. Yeah, you’re right Claus. It is.”  
He helped him to sit back down on the bed for a bit, then pausing for a few moments.  
“Maybe, just maybe… It’s not that bad of an idea to go out today.”  
“I heard it’s supposed to be a nice day today, or maybe it’s just intuition.”  
“Clo, I think we can both agree your intuition is absolutely terrible.”  
“Well, you’re not wrong, but still. Trust me on this one, you can do that, can’t you?”  
“Absolutely. Let’s just eat something first, okay? You’ve been out for two days, and didn’t eat yesterday either. What does that make it, three days? I can make omelets if you want.”  
Wasn’t that their favorite food when they were younger? Was it still their favorite food? He didn’t know about Lucas, and he himself hadn’t eaten in roughly six years. When working under Porky, he was almost completely robotic inside, running off of resources instead of food. When revived, he must’ve regained some organics. He was starving.  
“That sounds amazing. Thanks, Luca.”  
“Don’t mention it, Clo.”  
So, Lucas walked off to make omelets. Claus had the feeling this would be a good start to a good day.  
Ah, how good at lying to himself he was.  
•  
He was wrong, oh so very wrong. Of course, he doesn’t know this yet. Then again, neither do you in a sense.  
Anyways, Claus sat on the bed patiently, gently swaying from side to side. He could hear his brother downstairs, working away at making their favorite food. Of course mother’s would always be the best ones, but maybe Lucas would come a close second? Even if not, he would say so, just to make him feel better. He had seemed on edge ever since the attack a few days ago, though you already knew this as well as he.  
Whilst waiting, he allowed his mind to wander. He thought back to the people’s faces, full of hatred. Fear. Uncertainty of the unknown. How they looked at him like he was some alien, like he would tear them all apart, their families to shreds like the mecha-drago did to his. Claus recalled the thoughts flashing through his head, how he believed if he didn’t attack they would think that he wasn’t a monster.  
However, they looked underneath the actions and through his skin, to the past and the organics mingled with prosthetics underneath. They stared at what his cover was, what his skin and blood and bones told them he was, not his thoughts and personality. It’s as if all of Tazmilly had learned to only judge by covers, not read the text.  
What happened? Was it all his fault? The answer was no and yes at the same time. No in the sense that it was Porky that made them afraid of him. Yes in the sense that he was the chimera that made them feel this way. Maybe he was wrong with both trains of thought and it was just the fancy tastes they got from the sort of modern revolution the town received, making them only like what looked pretty on the outside, not caring about practical use, a form of greed taking its toll on him.  
He would’ve continued to try and find ways to blame himself, beat himself up over a scenario he couldn’t control if his brother didn’t enter at th at exact moment with a finished omelet in hand.  
“How’re you feeling?”  
He asked softly, putting the plate down on the bedside.  
“Could be better, but it’s not the worst I’ve ever felt.”  
It was a normal response, one that spread across the message that he was good to go. Come on, let him out, let him try! The boy across from him smiled lightly, saying as Claus picked up the omelet and began to eat,  
“That’s good to hear, then! You’re making a fast recovery. PSI magic sure is useful, sometimes.”  
Ah, the PSI magic must’ve sped up the process. Expected, his twin was exceptionally talented with the healing half whilst he found his own forte in the offensive, once again proving the thoughts of them being two halves of a bigger whole. He finished this thought with another munch of the omelet. Aside from a slightly odd taste to it, it was good. Wolfing the rest of it down, he responded with a rather quiet,  
“...Sometimes indeed.”  
Both of them shut up. Those words made some sort of heavy gloom cloud hover over them, a remembrance of the past.  
Part of the reason he swore off using PK Thunder ever again to himself. The pain he caused, the pain Porky caused…  
It’s something he would rather forget. Clear regret was on his face, making Lucas feel terrible. If he hadn’t brought up his healing PSI, this wouldn’t have happened.  
“So, you ready to go?”  
The spirit in the room was immediately lifted with these words, Claus nodding enthusiastically. His twin supported him as he got up, the two walking along, albeit a bit slow. Upon arriving downstairs, he was set in a chair and told,  
“Wait, I need to do a few things first.”  
A towel was taken and fastened around his neck and arm like a makeshift sling, one of their father’s stiffer boots taken and fit on the leg that was burned quite badly. Once more, the untouched metal arm was slung around Lucas’ neck as he helped him up, helped him walk forward. The younger twin’s arm was hooked around him as well, helping the support as well. Claus’ head nestled on his shoulder, they left the place, beginning the slow walk to town. With each step, the pair grew more uncertain that Claus would actually be able to change their minds, that both of them could.  
One foot in front of the other, they made their way through the passage, soon arriving at a gateway with faded letters on the top, reading “Tazmilly Village”. Of course it did, what else would it read? Nothing else, that’s for sure. There certainly wasn’t a recently made banner hung beneath those faded words reading “no freaks allowed”, aimed specifically at the chimera now entering the town despite the banner’s contents.  
Step by step, heart by heart, fear by fear, they walked into the town where it still faintly smelt of ash and failure. Disappointment lingered in the hearts of townsfolk for letting that abomination, the one who just wandered back into their town, survive. That freak, the one of metal, the one breathing air like a human being, one who wanted to make damned peace, amend, one who never even got a chance.  
An imitation bot, something that shouldn’t exist. No matter how they viewed it, they didn’t feel sympathy or mercy, even when Lucas attacked before and told them to think about what they’ve done while cradling his brother’s damaged body in his arms. Now it’s back, back and moving and in their territory. The people stayed inside, locking their kids in their rooms.  
Only Lighter and Fuel came out to greet him. Lighter, an adult, how odd, but he still cared, even if it’s something the town would shun him for.  
“Hey!” The pair’s childhood friend called, running towards them like he hadn’t seen them in years, “You’re back!”  
The twins were hugged tightly by their friend, who had a soft smile on his face. Lighter was a short distance away, still walking towards them at a snail’s pace, still unsure if he wanted to be alienated from normal society, but, then again, he sure didn’t want his son to be mad at him. Ah, the internal dilemma, not a fun thing you know. However, an immediate resolve formed in his mind when he saw the smile on Fuel’s face.  
“Hey, you two. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”  
“Sure has been Mister Lighter!”  
Immediately, they all began to chatter away, pointless babble, playful banter. At one point, lighter went off and came back with a crutch for Claus to use. At least he didn’t need to lean against Lucas the whole time anymore. He would hate to be more of a burden. The normal things. For a minute, just for a minute, it felt like everything was normal again. Like the events of six years ago never occurred, that society hadn’t changed as a whole. That the town was still accepting. That they were still loving.  
But illusions don’t last, nothing ever does. When silence finally fell, all felt wrong, sour. A nasty taste on their tongues, for talking like nothing was wrong.  
“Why do they hate me?” Claus asked them hazily, “I know I look different, but I’m still Claus… Still Claus, I swear.”  
“You don’t need to tell us that, you need to tell them.”  
Once again, they stood in a deathly silence, like they could feel the stares and glares they were receiving shooting holes through their skin. Claus bit his tongue, nervous, remembering the burning, the pyre. Turn on your heel, run, his instincts screamed at him, but when Lucas grabbed his hand and gave him that smile, kind and assuring, the voice stopped. Instead, in its place, was the want to make him happy. Please him.  
“Clo,” he began, “I believe in you.”  
Even if the world hated him, he would still be by his side. Fuel had a grin on his face, slapping a hand on his shoulder and encouraging him with a,  
“You got this.”  
Lighter said nothing, only giving him a light nod. Still, the sentiment was there, and it gave him all he needed. The ex-Commander slipped his hand out of his brother’s and limped towards the center of town, where at one point they tried to kill him, where he hoped to start anew. So many thoughts flew through that mind of his, so many careful calculations and possible solutions made by the algorithm put in his head.  
He ignored them. Those were not his own thoughts, no, those were computerized answers made through digitized simulations. What the town needed to hear were the words of Claus, the boy from Tazmilly, not Claus, the Chimera who served Porky.  
And so, with this, with all these thoughts and things, shutting off the automatic processing so he could think for himself, he began to speak. Speak out loud and hoped the villagers would hear, spoke from the heart.  
He told the story of what happened, but from his point of view. It went kinda like this…  
“I’m Claus. Claus from Tazmilly, but I think you already knew that. You think I’m wrong. A freak. You think that… I want to be like this, but that’s not true. When I went to fight the drago, I died. I died and felt true pain, I remember what it felt like to be ripped apart, to be torn into pieces, to breathe your last breath. However, that time, I never reached the light at the end of the tunnel. I was stuck in a purgatory, between life and death, and wondered why until I saw the world through his eyes. The Commander’s eyes. He was me, but not at the same time. We were the same person, but utterly different. I couldn’t control my body and, eventually, I couldn’t even remember my own name at all. I lost everything. I became him, and he was me at last. It took a year for them to completely erase my mind, and two more to set the plan into action. I pulled the needles mindlessly, until I saw him. My brother. Something made me want to hesitate, let him win, but I couldn’t displease Porky. At least, that’s what the commander thought. I didn’t want to hurt him, and couldn’t fathom why. So, for the first time in about two years, he was in control again, and I couldn’t move. All of my encounters with him are… fuzzy. I can’t remember much of them at all. The only one I truly remember was… the last encounter. I finally remembered who I was. Who we were.”  
He paused. All eyes were on him, the town was listening. Was this working?  
Claus, in the midst of the worry eating at him, couldn’t figure it out.  
“...I died for him. Died for all of you, and came back after three years of repent. Yet none of you can accept me. You think I’m a freak because I came back from the grave. Because the dark dragon took pity on my brother and gave him something he lost back. I didn’t ask to be back, it happened and I can’t do anything about it. Maybe… I was hoping you’d all realize this as well and just accept me again. Believe again.”  
But they’re all corrupted, corrupted by Porky’s influence. Even caged in that capsule he would forever haunt the world. His lips drew into a straight line as he waited. Waited for words, judgement, anything at all.  
Doors opened. People walked out, and his systems flared on.  
The statistics from before changed.  
7 hostiles.  
19 friendly.  
The new ones made him smile. Laugh a bit. It… worked. Belief was being reinstated in society. He could make this work, he could… make it better. Everything would be okay again. Sure, change now can’t repair what had been broken before, but it can work.  
Arms were wrapped around him and he was lifted up, something like a squeak leaving him. His hand shot to turn his arm into a cannon from instinct but he stopped. Froze.  
It was just Luca, after all, the blond’s face buried into the back of his neck.  
“It worked, Luca, it worked… it’ll be okay..!” Claus spoke with a growing smile, heart still beating quickly from nervousness, fear still in his heart but not as terrible as before. His brother didn’t respond.  
“...Luca?”  
Concern quickly formulated, head trying to turn at an unnatural angle to look him in the eye. Before he could attempt this idiotic stunt that he would absolutely do, one of the elders approached. Claus looked over at them, and immediately was able to tell this was one of those who were converted. He smiled, opened his mouth to say something when he felt Lucas lift his head. He was on the ground again, Lucas’ hands covering his ears. Claus couldn’t hear what he said next, but the adult looked horrified.  
When they backed off, he looked back at him, confused.  
“What did you say..?”  
There was no visible emotion on his brother’s face, just this blank and placid look.  
“Nothing of major concern, Clo. Don’t worry about it.”  
Something happened. Something most DEFINITELY happened, and Lucas wasn’t going to give him an answer. The only thing that was obvious was that Lucas did NOT trust them, and probably wouldn’t again. It contradicts what he said earlier, but, then again, his twin wasn’t face-to-face with anyone who hurt him then either.  
…  
The counter changed again.  
16 friendly.  
9 hostile.  
1 afraid. Afraid, afraid of what, who? Of him? Of Lucas?  
...What did Lucas DO?  
What happened to him?  
Claus didn’t want to know. Claus wants to know. He’s confused. He’s…  
He’s scared of his brother.  
•  
The same thing happened multiple times throughout the day, resulting in Claus apologizing later while the rest of the kids collectively managed to distract his brother. He held conversation with friendly adults, beginning to act a bit more like his old self again, keeping an eye on the counter as well. Slowly but surely, the rest of it dwindled to almost none, just leaving one on the counter as he interacted with the townsfolk.  
This was the problem he decided to face head on, a bit cocky from the fact everyone else was fine just from him talking to others. What difference would this make? Boots clicked against the ground as he approached the last person, a siren sounding in the back of his head, an air of hostility to the person, but he wasn’t that worried. First, he held out a hand, the organic one, for a handshake. A peace offering left untaken. The arm lowered to his side, but he didn’t allow that to damper his mood.  
“Hello,” Claus greeted simply, “How are you today?”  
“You can’t fool me!” Not even entertaining him, it seemed. The elder was only interested in going for the throat, no sign of trust, no glimmer of hope. “I know you’re a monster, waiting to hurt us, Commander.”  
That last part, spat out like acid burning the tongue, made him flinch.  
“Now, I promise I’m not him anymore, I’m me. Remember, I’m Cl-”  
“Claus died six years ago. You’re an imposter.”  
“Look, I know you’re hellbent on me not being him but I assure you-”  
“You don’t even speak like him!”  
“I’ve matur-“  
“Go. Away.”  
“Just give me a chance.”  
“I’ll count to five, I swear to god if you don’t back off by five I- I-.”  
“You’ll what?”  
To the Dark Dragon, this was one stubborn villager.  
“O… One.”  
“Look.”  
“Two.”  
“I’m just trying-”  
“Three.”  
“-to make amends.”  
“Four.”  
“Just let-”  
“Five.”  
“-me tr…”  
Hasty, he rushed into this situation, he was too hasty. He should’ve listened to the warning of the algorithm, the warning siren it gave him. Claus stared forward somewhat blankly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  
His brain registered what he was seeing at last, and the happiness, cockiness and hope dissipated. That’s… That’s a gun. How did he get a gun-? Of course, taking modernization into consideration they would have at least a few things from Porky’s days, but a gun, openly distributed? Was he an ex-pigmask, was that why he didn’t believe him?  
Claus was frozen like a deer in headlights, and no one seemed to have noticed yet. They probably couldn’t see it, he was probably blocking it from view, oh dear, oh my, oh god.  
“Leave me alone…” Oh, right. The person holding the gun was there still, now backing away. “Leave me alone and don’t try to get close to me again..! O-Or any of us! Leave!”  
Claus didn’t have anything to say against that. At least he didn’t shoot him, he supposed. Leaving town still wasn’t on his list of things to do, though, and it wouldn’t be for a while if all went to plan. As he went to leave the bloke to their own devices, there was a shout of alarm, and all faces turned in his direction.  
Someone noticed. Damn, he was hoping to get clear of this without anyone causing a scene. Of course the people staring set off the guy with the gun, causing them to hold it level so it could hit a majority of them.  
“What are you DOING?!” Someone in the mass of pedestrians roared, “Are you insane?”  
“Are YOU?” The man rebuked, “He’s the one who almost killed us all, even if it’s not him, the monster is still in him! We need to get him out, how could a simple speech and false words of kindness change your mind?!”  
It’s a martyr kind of thing, Claus mused in realization. Hey, he knew how it felt now. Not fun. Kudos to Jesus for what he did, and for so long, if you’re into that religious stuff at least.  
His hand twitched as numbers fluctuated, making his head hurt, spin like a record. He dropped the crutch to clutch his head, eyes wide from the mechanics he had tried to repress for a bit too long went haywire, making the one person against his existence more exuberant in their speech. The pounding continued, a single yell amongst the madness. Soon, he felt arms around him, a magic seeping into his veins, soft melodies playing in his head like someone whispering that he would be alright.  
No. That wasn’t his head. That’s reality. The person holding him was talking to him, whispering to him. Claus safely assumed it was Lucas, judging from the actions, as well as the PSI flowing through him and flinched. Still afraid, wondering if he would hurt him, threaten him as well.  
None of those hurtful words came. Instead, it was nice words. Caring whispers that stopped for a moment, then two, replaced by screaming and what he assumed to become a fight.  
“Don’t,” he pleaded, “don't fight. Not worth it. Wanna go home, home…”  
He couldn’t even form a full coherent sentence, too wrapped up in the commotion, the numbers in his head finally stopping at a crawl. No statistics had changed. Everyone was still afraid.  
Not of him anymore, of course. We already cleared this up. His hand sought out the crutch, which someone gave to him. His mind was still a tad fuzzy, so he couldn’t recognize the face, but a murmur of thanks left him nonetheless. The boy rose, brother helping him from the other side, who said something he couldn’t forget since then. Something he probably wasn’t meant to hear. The words that signaled the end of this normal life he had wanted.  
But he didn’t know this. Then again, you weren’t supposed to know either. Oh well.  
“Look at what you’ve done,” was what he said, “look at what you’ve done and remember it. Internalize it. You’ll all regret what you’ve done. You’ll all pay, and none of you will like the outcome.”  
Ominous. Short. What happened to the caring and forgiving twin he had known? Claus couldn’t remember, but knew it was his fault somehow. Everything was, after all, somehow.  
They walked out of town. The further away they got, the clearer his head became. When they stood before the door of their house, everything was quiet.  
...Everything. Which rose the question.  
“Where’s Boney..?”  
For a moment, a brief moment, he thought Lucas did something to them. No. They’re family. That’s ridiculous.  
“Dad and Boney left a few days ago to find Kumatora and Duster. Thought they’d wanna meet you for real,” Lucas spoke simply, tone flat. It was weird, even if it was how he spoke ever since he woke up. Still unsettling.  
They opened the door and headed inside, an omelet on the table left untouched. Seems someone wasn’t hungry that morning. Not that it really mattered now.  
Not to either of them, truthfully. Claus headed back upstairs without hesitation, just flat out tired, emotionally and physically.  
The sun was just about set. How long had they been out there? Why wasn’t he hungry again, he should be. Maybe it was because he retained at least some of what was implanted in the first place? Who knows? Not him. He doesn’t meddle in the affairs of a draconic god.  
Speaking of hunger, Lucas hadn’t eaten all day, had he? Maybe that’s why he’s still downstairs. Maybe that’s why he was off all day. Because he was hungry and now he’s eating. Nothing more. Nothing less. That’s what he told himself.  
Minutes passed, and he began counting seconds, like sheep to pass the time before he fell asleep. He got to 438 before Lucas came upstairs, an odd look on his face and both hands in his pockets. The blond sat at the foot of the bed, and the redhead looked at him drearily.  
“...Tired?”  
“Not yet. I have something to do. You should sleep though.”  
“No, I’ll help you first. I don’t want to leave you to work on your own.”  
“Go to sleep, Clo.”  
“After.”  
Claus moved to sit up, but Lucas pushed him back and sighed.  
“You’re too stubborn for your own good sometimes. You need to rest, you’ll have a hard day ahead tomorrow. Or easy. Depends on how you’ll take it.”  
That… confused him. What did he mean it depends? Lucas managed to scare him a bit more, and he scrambled into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard.  
“What are you going to do, Lucas?” No nickname. Just business. Unbridled fear.  
“...Goodnight, Claus.”  
Both of his hands pressed themselves against his cheeks and, before he could say a word, a shot of magic shot through him again.  
And he felt extremely tired.  
Very…  
Tired…  
…  
He passed out on the spot.  
•  
It was dark, moon in the sky, stars shining bright. Claus sat up in the flower field once more, confused. How did he get here? What-  
“You’re dreaming, Claus..,”  
A soft voice told him. He recognized that voice.  
It was Hinawa’s voice.  
“Mom..?”  
Did Lucas kill him?  
“Claus, be weary… Nothing’s the same anymore. Nothing will ever be the same anymore. There’s suddenly… No, you’ll learn soon.”  
A warning, he was being warned of something, someone. This had to be about Lucas.  
“What happened, mom? Please, I need to know what happened to Luca!”  
The spirit manifested before Claus, approaching him. She placed her hands on his shoulders.  
“I can’t keep you here much longer, but you need only know this one thing. He isn’t alright. He’s broken, snapped in half. Insane. You need to run, Claus. Run as fast as you can. Find your father. Stay away from Lucas as best you can.”  
“But I need to help him!”  
“I know you want to, Claus… But the best anyone can do right now is go and make sure you get away. From what I’ve seen, this entire problem of his… It revolves around YOU.”  
Of course it is. It’s because of the entire pyre incident, how he was attacked and why Lucas was so on edge. He only watched as he slunk into madness, not doing a single thing to help. He’s disgusting, isn’t he?  
“It’s not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself.”  
Right, she can hear his mind in this land. It was like every thought vocalized themselves on their own whim. He hated that fact when he was dead.  
“Now, remember. When you get home, run. Don’t look at what he did. Do you promise?”  
“I promise.”  
….  
When Claus truly awoke, it was noon of the next day. He sat up straight in his bed, looking around.  
Lucas wasn’t home, which was… Odd. Reaching out for his crutch, he hooked it under his arm, rising up. He grabbed his jacket as he headed outside, going as quickly as possible, putting on his shoes and said jacket. After all of it was done, and he was about to leave, he spotted it.  
The kitchen knives were all missing. Realization of what probably occurred whilst he was asleep washed over him like ice cold water, and he knew why his mother was so panicked. Lucas fucking snapped. There’s no nicer way for him to sensor it, for him to put it. He went off the deep end and is sitting at the bottom of the ocean.  
Hinawa’s words played in his head like a record, one sticking out. Run. Run run run, run before he finds you, before he catches you.  
He’s the source of this problem, and he needs to find dad, stop this. Claus ran as fast as he could with a crutch, which, truthfully, wasn’t very fast. He then remembered his jetpack, and castized himself for being so stupid. The thing activated, metal wings expanding, firing up. Of course, due to the faulty wiring from the fire that licked up his back, the fire that ate at his skin as they tried to burn him alive wouldn’t allow it. He was stuck on the ground, but maybe he could hover.  
Claus stopped and took a moment, just to realize how loud that must’ve been, how he had just taken a huge gamble. In a slight panic now, he tried to at least hover above the ground so he wouldn’t have to risk hurting his leg in the process of escaping. Sparks flew off the wings, and it did allow him the hover, but he couldn’t move. It was like his heart had stopped.  
The sparks continued to emit, and his heart beat faster. All he could see was electricity shooting from the point of a blade, hurtling towards his brother and reflecting off of the badge on his chest, reaching towards him with a remorseful smile before being struck by the force of a thousand suns.  
To think only these tiny sparks started this, that they arose such a sore memory from three years ago. Claus fell to the ground, retracting the wings. Looking around, he saw he was moving along in the hover position without realizing during his panic. The place was familiar, of course it was, it’s obviously the town, but there was something different about it. Like all the light had been drained from this place, as if nobody was home. It was far too quiet, but it always was whenever he was here.  
Hadn’t that changed yesterday? As far as he could recall, the prejudice had stopped, and he was simply accepted again. They were acting like their old selves for a day, except for that one man who was stuck with the times where he didn’t have control over his own body.  
Thinking about it now, that’s probably the event that triggered the silence in town today. That one man’s outburst reversed all progress that he had made. He thought that at first, but then he saw the numbers flashing in the corner of his vision. It was… Much lower than yesterday. According to it, there was roughly four people besides him in town. No, that can’t be right… Yesterday, the population of the village was well over twenty. What made it drop?  
Claus already knew, but didn’t want to admit it to himself. Even if there was a sinking feeling in his stomach, he refused to believe this was reality.  
Despite his mother’s warning, he looked around town, hobbling with the crutch. Sidetracked. He needed to know this wasn’t real. That Lucas didn’t… that he wasn’t…  
He saw it around then. It was terrible, and smelled like pounds upon pounds of burning, rotten flesh... Which it was. Charred corpses of villagers, some with knives in lethal places, some with none, all with their skin turned ashen and mouths ajar in an unheard shriek. He barely was able to notice that one of them was the man who threatened him with a gun yesterday. Horrifying would explain it in a single word, something so unsettling that it made Claus throw up on the spot. He fell onto his knees, tears falling, eyes locked on the ground.  
“Isn’t it lovely?”  
Oh GOD.  
“I did it for you! They were going to hurt you. Take you from me. I know they were. They were just lying to get to you. Kill you. I won’t let you be taken away from me again, Clo. Never again.”  
“Go away…”  
“I won’t leave you again, either! Everything can go back to the way it was, everything can be fine again! It can be me and you against the world, like we said when we were younger!”  
“You’re NOT the Lucas I knew.”  
“Come on, Clo! Don’t be like that. Everything is f i n e.”  
Nothing was okay anymore. He felt his hands on his shoulders and knew he couldn’t get away anymore. The broken wings of a broken boy fell, and he was lifted up.  
Claus didn’t want to look at the mess his brother had become, but did. He had to. It was his creation in the end, after all. Crazed eyes, red all over his face, and a maniac smile, that damned smile that he had seen before passing out. Nothing like the twin he had before.  
Obsession over a topic can warp even the purest of minds, the kindest of souls. The best thing to do is let go before it becomes a problem, but, the more often you lose the thing, the worse the obsession gets when trying to get it back. That was his personal experience with that.  
Claus never expected that this would happen. Never expected it to break someone so pure, someone he wanted to protect from the cruelties of the world. Someone who he ended up exposing them to entirely, ironically.  
As they headed back home, both broken in their own ways, there was a vacancy in their souls, a blankness in their mind, a darkness eating at them both. The kids aren’t alright, never were, never will be again, but there’s always an ending to a bad story.  
This isn’t it. There’s always the option to…  
Try again?  
>Yes No  
…  
Claus woke up the next day, looking over at his brother. He seemed asleep, but he knew he was wide awake, waiting for something. As broken as they both may be, he couldn’t believe that this was it. The end.  
So he believed that, one day, he would get out of here. Get help. One day, everything would be alright.  
And the world would be okay again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you ever wanna talk or somethin’ here’s a few places you can reach me!  
> Amino (Earthbound): Slitherhen  
> Instagram: Plaguesyndromes  
> Tumblr: matrixremover  
> -  
> Again, I would like to thank the artist of the original work that inspired me to write this piece, and you for reading! Have a good day/night everyone!


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